


And Every Breath We Drew

by Happyhippohugger



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Antisemitism, Backstory, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, Make it gay cowards, Period Typical Attitudes, Visibly Jewish Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23673367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happyhippohugger/pseuds/Happyhippohugger
Summary: His mother spit overboard as they left. That was one thing Bucky remembered about leaving home.There wasn't much that he remembered from before that moment. Ya'aqov Eliab Abel Barnes moved to America at the age of 6, and what followed, he remembered.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	And Every Breath We Drew

His mother spit overboard as they left. That was one thing Bucky remembered about leaving home. There wasn't much that he remembered from before that moment. There was his home of course, it was small, there was no glass in the window, and chickens everywhere. He got yelled at on the sabbath for chasing them in his Shul clothes. He could vaguely remember a dirt road down to the temple. It was a fairly small congregation, it had shrunk even more after the Great War. The war to end all wars, the war that hardened his Tate. Not that he knew him before of course, he wasn't born yet when his father fought. But his father returned to the dirt house and his wife. He had deserted, but there were not enough in command to notice his absence. 

Ya'aqov Eliab Abel Barnes was born on March 10th, 1917 to Wered and Gershon Barnes. They lived in that little house with the one window and the chickens in the yard down the long dirt road from their Shul for 5 years. And with each year that passed, they got poorer and poorer, and more and more of their friends started to leave. Ya'aqov knew of the stories whispered between his parents when they thought he was asleep. Houses broken into, menorahs smashed, mezuzahs ripped off doorways, families killed as they sat down to sabbath dinners, right as the blessing over the challah was being said. 

It was right after Yom Kippur, his parents had been busily preparing for something, not that Ya'aqov knew what it was, but one night, he got woken up almost right after he had gone to bed, it was dark out, and he saw his mother packing their silver candlesticks, a wedding present from his Grandparents into a roll as he was stuffed into clothes and shoes and pushed out the door into an awaiting wagon that would take him and his small family to the train station four towns away. He fell asleep in his mother's lap as she tenderly rubbed the back of his neck, saying a prayer under her breath while the wagon bounced and jostled them. When he woke up again, they were passing through a field that he didn't recognize. Not that there were many fields he did recognize beyond the ones right around his home. It seemed like forever, and Ya'aqov started to complain of being uncomfortable. His mother opened a pack of theirs to pass him a slice of bread in an attempt to quiet him. It would be the last slice of fresh bread Ya'aqov had for months. 

The train was long. It was uncomfortable, and loud, and the seats were too high for Ya'aqov's legs to touch the ground and his legs got tired of swinging back and forth. He did enjoy watching the world fly by, seeing the cows and farms pass by, in one day covering more ground than he had ever dreamed of. It was days on the train. One time, Bucky's Tate took him to stand out on the back of the train, feeling the wind blow across his face and nearly knock his kippot off. 

After the train was the boat, well, before the boat, his father had to try and buy tickets for the boat. Ya'aqov buried his face in his Mame's skirt while his father was inside a pawn shop, trading those silver candlesticks that his mother had wrapped up so carefully. He emerged with a solemn face, but enough money in his hand for three third-class tickets to America. It had been five days since they had left in the middle of the night, and Ya'aqov was trying not to cry, he had to be strong, his mother was already sobbing into the scarf that had been covering her wig. That night, the three were all quiet, a nervous energy clouded them as everything suddenly seemed so permanent. 

So his mother spit over the side of the boat as they departed from the land that brought them nothing but pain, that was driving them away because of simply how they worshipped. What they celebrated, the prayers they said, the language they spoke. The rest of the family was there, left back in the village, now Ya'aqov was going to be far away from them, no more sabbath dinners with his grandparents. He was now on a boat, going away. He didn't even know where they were going, Amerike was some story. It was not a real place. Or even if it was, it couldn't have been on this planet. It sounded so far away. If you needed a boat to get there, then it must be lifetimes away. 

The boat was crowded. And dark. And made noises that sounded like it was going to fall apart. The rooms were crowded. They didn't even get a bunk to themselves, it was the three of them on the lower bunk, Two men shared the bunk above them, they didn't speak any languages in common, the bunk along the back wall had one family in it, or at least Ya'aqov assumed they were a family. There were too many children and the mother and father looked perpetually tired. There was too much yelling, and the father was far too liberal with his belt. The children's noses were always running, and soon, they passed that to everyone else in the cabin. The bunk across from the Barnes family was filled with another two families, the bottom bunk an elderly couple, the wife would not make it to America, her grave halfway between Dubrovnik and New York. Ya'aqov would not forget the sobs of the old man as her body was tossed overboard. That night, Mame had shared the last piece of sugar with him for his tea. Ya'aqov was secretly jealous of him, because then he would have a full bunk to himself and not have to share it with anyone, wedged between his parents. He swore to himself he would not share a bed with anyone when he got older, even if he was married to someone. The bunk above the couple was a mother and daughter going to join their father somewhere called Ohio. He had sent them the money for their trip, and even enough for them to buy new clothes. The two of them were snooty and didn't like to talk to the Barnes because they thought them better than the poor family that had to flee. 

It took 27 days. 27 days to get to New York and off the boat. Then came Ellis Island. It was terrifying. The rows of inspectors, the hoards of people, Ya'aqov clung to his mame's hand while his father carried everything they had left. He couldn't understand anything going on around him. Everything was loud, and big, but he got through being poked and prodded by the men in white jackets that everyone was terrified of, he saw several people in front of him, including the old man, get pulled out of line and the crowd to screams and cries of their family. He couldn't see where they went. They stood for hours. In that big room, snaking through lines. Ya'aqov wasn't a baby, he couldn't cry or complain like the little kids around him, no matter how much his shoes pinched, or how thirsty he was, or how hot he was in his jacket. Finally, they got to the front of the line with a man sitting at a big tall desk. Ya'aqov had to tilt his head entirely back to see him. He barked questions at his Tate. Meanwhile, his Tate answered them in his broken English. He was the only one of the Barnes that knew any English. He was given a book on American History from someone on the boat, it was traded for something, Ya'aqov saw after his Tate got the book, he didn't have his Sabbath cufflinks anymore. Of the whole conversation, Ya'aqov only understood one word, "Barnes". After what seemed like forever, his Tate was handed the papers back with a big black mark on them and his Tate smiled, trying to contain himself as he picked the bags up with a new bounce in his step, trying to usher his family along. And just like that, they entered back out into the sunlight and to the ferry that would take them to the shore. 

The Barnes family found an apartment through a connection in Brooklyn, it was small, just one room, while they were there, Tate found a job working for a local kosher butcher and began bringing home a paycheck, meanwhile, Mame began to get more tired, her stomach getting larger, and soon after, Ya'aqov got a little sister, Rivqah. She was little and screamed a lot, but a very happy baby, his parents called her Rebbecca though. Just like they started to call Ya'aqov, James. Apparently, as his Tate, Pa, sat down and explained to him, he had to fit in to succeed, and he couldn't seem American with a name like "Ya'aqov". James was a good, strong American name. His father started to only speak English to him, in a way to try and get his English up to snuff, he still wasn't successful, but by the time September came around and it was time to enroll in a school, he knew enough to nod and smile in response. 

James' mother insisted that he had to attend the best school in their neighborhood. The school that would set him on the path to success. The answer to that was a Catholic School, Sisters of the Holy Spirit. James didn't need to attend services, or the religious studies class, so he entered as the school as the first Jewish student ever to enter in the first grade. As one could imagine, he was not very popular, with his funny hat, and accent that wasn't like their thick born and bred Brooklyn ones. 

Until there was Steve. Steven Grant Rogers was three inches taller than James and practically as opposite as they could get. Steve was thinner than a twig while James was Stockier. Steve's hair was so blond it was almost white and straighter than a stick, James' hair was a dark black and curly. Steve was the one that started calling him Bucky, after there were already three other Jameses in the class and he couldn't pronounce Buchanan. 

Steve helped Bucky with his English, they palled around together, Bucky in return had a knack for math, starting to pick it up and helped Steve with his math work. Over the course of the year, Ya'aqov turned into "Bucky and Steve" they were in each other's pockets, best friends, wherever one was found, the other was sure to be nearby. For every time that Steve was made fun of for the ever growing list of ailments he experienced, Bucky was there to defend him, and then every time that Bucky was made fun of for being Jewish, Steve defended him in turn. 

Over the next 7 years, Bucky's family grew to include 5 more younger siblings, two sets of aunts, uncles, and cousins moving to join them, and his grandmother from his Mother's side. The Barnes, other Barnes, Mrs. Barnes and the Rosenthals moved to one of the new apartments built a few blocks away. The family took up residence in a 6 room, railway style apartment, it was not glamorous, but it was enough for them. Being the oldest boy in the family certainly had its advantages. For his Bar Mitzvah, he was gifted his own room, it was a folded off partition intended to function as a larder. Bucky felt like the king of his own castle as he got to sit on his own bed, reading his comics and doing his homework in peace, or as much peace as a piece of wood could provide. 

Steve started to stay over for dinner and sleepovers more and more, Mrs. Barnes didn't notice an extra mouth at the table, especially one with Steve's appetite. Whenever Bucky wanted some real quiet, he went to Steve's. Mrs. Rogers had been taking more and more night shifts and that left Steve alone all on his own. If possible, Bucky and Steve started to spend even more time together. 

Bucky's hair started to straighten, he got taller, started to get rid of his baby face, and had no issue talking to girls like the other boys in his grade. As the next few years passed, Bucky just got more and more handsome. But his interest in the girls that the other boys in his classes seemed to have, Bucky never got it. It wasn't until he had stumbled out of a fight on the other side of the neighborhood that he saw a couple of guys kissing in an alley. It was almost dusk and he nearly missed it. He thought it was bad. Well he had been told it was bad, but never thought much about it. The day after, he started to think about it, and had the sinking realization that maybe girls were not who he wanted to be devoted to. He kept it a secret for years, not wanting to even mention anything to Steve, trying to step out with girls from class, and getting a reputation as someone who went through dates on a weekly basis, he never got an accusation of wandering hands or ungentlemanly behavior, and he counted that as a win. Meanwhile, there was Steve. His best friend always by his side, or more under his arm. Steve was his constant, his always. 

He never thought about Steve in any way other than as a best friend until one day, he was supposed to pick up Alona from her friend's but left early, having time to kill, he wandered a few blocks out of the usual path he would have normally taken. Walking down a street most mothers would have cautioned against in the daylight, now at night, Bucky heard the faint sound of music coming out of a seemingly boarded up building, blankets were tacked over the windows in front, but the door still looked nice. And then, he saw a guy disappear into the alley beside the boarded up building. Something about it made him want to follow, but also he felt a pit in his chest. Bucky dashed across the street and into that alley. There was a door, hidden behind empty trash cans, and behind that door, that's where the music was. It was a bar. A bar filled with music, and men. Men dancing together, there were a few women there, taller than any women he had seen before, still looking exquisitely gorgeous, it wasn't long after he first stepped in that he learned those women were drag queens, though he was late to pick up his sister that night, he kept returning to that club, it was called The Squealing Cat, and he wanted to bring Steve there one day. 

It was right after Steve's 16th birthday. They were laying on the fire escape that led into Steve's bedroom. That was when Steve leaned over and kissed him. It was a small peck, and they both were bright red as they sat there, staring out to the building next door before Bucky got the courage to say that he didn't mind the kiss. After that night, Bucky and Steve became Bucky And Steve. And Bucky got to take Steve to The Squealing Cat plenty of times. They also got arrested together plenty of times, and got drunk together plenty of times, and kissed plenty of times. That was the last time things were normal between them. 

The crash came. It had happened a few years before, but never really touched the Barnes or Rogers families until the fall when Bucky was 17 and a junior in highschool. Only a few weeks into the school year, he was sat down by his parents and they had an adult conversation. Money was getting tight with all the mouths to feed. And prices were rising. Bucky was now a man of the family, and it was his job to help provide. He dropped out of school, the top student in math and perfectly on track to go to school for engineering, to go work at the docks as a laborer. He moved crates, helped unload ships, it was hard, backbreaking work. But he did it to help support his family. They let him save up a little on the side, enough so that two years later when Steve was attending art school and his ma passed, they were able to move into a small apartment together. Bucky attended Sarah's funeral, standing behind Steve as he watched his mother be lowered into the ground. Later that night, he said a Kaddish for her, the two of them were both men then, on their own. 

After Steve and Bucky moved into their shithole apartment together, nothing changed for years, Bucky would try and find girls to go on double dates with, pulling steve along to dance halls and the other few nights a week they'd go to their club together, able to dance pressed as tight as they could get into each other. It was all so quiet and peaceful, and perfect. A routine was established. 

The war came and changed that. 

As soon as Bucky heard about the bombing of Pearl Harbor, his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. His family had been receiving letters from relatives back in the old country for years, they had already lost contact with one set of aunts and uncles. His chest boiled with rage every time he thought about it. How come they never get to stop running, how come the entire world is out to hate him and his family. It was never fair. But life was not supposed to be fair, Steve was excited for the war, wanted to enlist, but Bucky, Bucky had a feeling, a feeling his bubbe used to call a gefil, that they were not going to get through the end okay. 

His mother spit on the floor as he went to tell his parents he got his draft papers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I've assembled so many of my favorite headcanons here and I really enjoyed writing this piece.


End file.
